Courting
by Young Roy
Summary: Flowers and candy, sonnets and little gifts and Dan giving him advice…Oh god. Jack better be worth it. JamiexJack WARNING: Slash


I was able to get my laptop sooner and I can upload my story now. I feel all bubbly after writing this. I actually want to finish this fic right now. ovo

Even though I'm practically the only that has written about this pairing, I'm glad to know more people embrace it.

(-grins-) I'll call it farmshipping.

Hahah, maybe not. Any ideas? Please tell me. Well, this fic is dedicated to **xXKitsune KyuubiXx** who asked me if I could continue with it.

Disclaimer: Don't own.

Chapter 1

Jamie is happy.

He is the best rancher in all FlowerBud Village –even if said village only had one rancher until now-, with nowhere to go but up; he is young, healthy—relatively good-looking, if what the villager-girls used to tell him is anything to go by (not that he _actually_ pays attention to them).

His work is meticulous and he has ordered everything around him with immaculate precision and patience.

He has many acquaintances. No, really, he _does._

…

Okay, _maybe_ he only has the harvest sprites and the Harvest Goddess.

He is _happy_, happier than he's ever been. He knows this. He knows _this_.

Jamie is happy. Except…

On his off-hours—of which there are few—he sits at home; makes himself a quiet dinner; reads.

Sometimes he listens to the radio.

Sometimes he likes eat jam. Well, a lot of jam.

Sometimes he goes to _anonymous_ bars and spys on _certain people._

Jamie is so happy he feels like bursting out of his skin, like a firecracker: he wants to explode. His skin will fragment and combust and he will fly up, up, and away.

He doesn't know what he would do after that, if it actually ever happened. But it _won't_, so he won't think about it. Jamie is not prone to impractical thoughts.

Jamie is really very happy. He knows this. But sometimes he—

There's a little something nagging him and it's not one of those harvest sprites. He would _know. _

The first time Jamie told someone about his personal problems he was drunk, and poured out his darkest secrets to a sleazy-looking person that looked like Carl and reeked of melancholy and flat beer. Two hours later they started to talk about _him._

Jamie loudly told him that he stopped cursing the Lord's name in vain, and I quote, "maybe God wasn't so evil after all, maybe he pissed me off just to make me meet this adorable boy, and his form of distraction was a real good one". To drunk Jamie there was absolutely nothing wrong with his sexual preference.

The stranger Carl look-alike drunk enough to listen kindly to the youth's declaration, nodding thoughtfully as if amazed by his profundity.

The next morning he kindly _'asked'_ Carl not to tell anyone or else a sickle might slip from his grasp any minute. _Butterfingers, I suffer from butterfingers, pity, really, must be genetic._

Carl started to avoid him after that.

Jamie is so fucking happy he _can't_ stand it. He can _barely_ breathe. He is turning blue.

On Monday on his lunch break he went to buy some seeds and bumped into Joe on the way. After flat-out ignoring him (well, maybe he _did_ gave an insult. But I assure you, it was totally to not shame Jamie's honor).

Joe had shouted at him—made a scene, a spectacle of them both when he knew there was nothing Jamie _hated more_—and even bloodied his nose a little bit before leaving him, embarrassed and alone, in front of their audience.

He can't even go out to get some stupid banana seeds without being plagued. The activity has been ruined for him forever.

Jamie had thought: _If it wasn't for you being his best friend,_ and imagined punching Joe square in the face, his fist buried to the wrist.

He clenched and unclenched his trembling, impotent hands and cleaned his face. He would learn to sew –because he is Jamie and he can learn to do anything- and do a Joe doll just so he can punch it and use needles on it.

He grinned. Well, that was a nice thought. He will order things he needs by phone now.

Jamie has worked so hard to be happy—happier—so that's what he is. Anything else would be intolerable.

Jamie would die if he thought he weren't: if all his sacrifices had been for nothing.

When a certain someone tries to contact him the next day (because he wants to know if he's alright), Jamie is mortified.

He prefers to forget those sort of encounters ever happened; they are not acknowledged in his regular life. They can't be.

Jamie is happy, and that means he does not do that sort of thing. Happy people do not do the kind of things Jamie does; he is not himself when they happen—not really.

A certain someone is disrupting Jamie's perfect ordered life where the two parallel parts of him never meet, and Jamie doesn't like it, not one bit.

After Jack has tried to chat with him for the third time, Jamie says, "Shouldn't you be collecting _more_ notes? _**What?**_ You think this is a game? Do me a favor and kindly leave me alone."

And Jack says, used to Jamie's rude remarks, "I,I was just—I was so worried. I'm sorry. At _least _let Alex see-"

"_You_ are worried about _me_?" asks Jamie incredulously, looking at Jack's sad face, and throws his head back and laughs. "Don't give me that shit."

Even so, the next day he goes to the clinic to get his nose fixed. Alex is kind of enough to keep his mouth shut and not comment anything. He knew there was a reason why he tolerates this man.

After telling him his nose is not broken he mumbles a thanks and leaves.

Martha gives him some herbs and tells him to 'play nice' next time. If it didn't hurt so much he would snort his reply.

He sees him outsides, talking to Joe –and no, he doesn't feel his heart clench at the sight- and suddenly he sees you and smiles as if yesterday's talk did nothing to him.

"How's your nose?"

"Fine." And he grins and tells you it won't happen again, dragging _monkey_ with him, and you're alone. He knows you don't like wasting your time talking.

He's really gorgeous, you think.

Petit figure, eye-busting gorgeous, and he doesn't even know it.

He hides under carefully patched clothes and that silly hat, but it's there. You see it. How could anyone _not_ notice?

He's a skittish one, though, you know. Stand-offish lonely; priggishly proud with rules seared straight into his brain. He's so cautious; withdrawn into himself too far—he wears his vulnerability like a brand without ever knowing he's given himself away.

You're positive he's too naïve for this place; he's oblivious to intrigues and hidden meanings—he actually _believes_ in the work he's doing; he thinks he can help a lot of people—thinks it'll be wonderful, it'll be better than it was. He's confident his hard work will pay off. His sacrifices will be _worth_ _it._

Jamie thinks it's nothing more than a waste of time.

People are disgusting. _Disgusting._ He can't stand to look at them let alone _breathe_ the same air as them. They'll betray you once you've serve your purpose and discard you like an old rag.

Humans are born alone and they should die alone. So…_why?_ Why doesn't he want to be alone? No, it isn't that.

The figure of Jack's getting smaller as he walks Joe home. Jack and Joe. Joe and Jack.

Those idiots would go well with eachother.

But he deserves to be with that idiot. No, _scratch that_. That idiot is already _his_. He earned it. Fair _and_ square. Jamie wasn't the best rancher in the entire village and the Harvest Goddess's favorite for nothing.

The idea that Joe and Jack would ever be together is ridiculous, because Joe is Joe, and Jack is…well, _Jack. _But what about him? Isn't _he_ the same as Joe? What-no, NO, NO. _**NO.**_

Ugh, the sole idea is repulsive. Unlike Joe, he would fit with Jack. Well, studying their backgrounds…Jamie lives in a world of loneliness, and Jack is about as far from that as you can get; he is everything he's never had—everything he's never thought to have.

Besides which, Jack has never, ever, _ever_ thought about him in that way, and he never will. He is his rival, and even if _maybe_, one time, just for a second, he had wondered what it would be like to go beyond that, he would never admit to it, and he'd certainly never try to act on it. Jack was to shy to do anything.

He was-wait, wait, what, _what,_ _**what?**_

"Maybe…he is…shy?"

Shy? That was possible, hell that could even be accurate if you think about it. Maybe Jack was too shy to-well-to actually _do something_ about it. Maybe he was waiting for Jamie to take the lead.

He smirked. Typical Jack behaviour. He wouldn't be suprised if the young boy denied it at first. But he couldn't do it alone.

Jamie bit his lip. Joe was out of the question (even if said idiot knew _his_ idiot better than anyone), Alex had a doctor-patient relationship with Jack, Kurt _was_ Joe's brother, Carl was scared of his _butterfingers_ and the list went on and on…

Wait…

Jamie was left with only one option. After work, he decided, he would pay _someone_ a little visit.

(x)(X)(x)

Jamie stood just inside the doorway to the Paradice Orchard. He had been dreading this moment ever since he had convinced himself it was a good idea. He guessed maybe that just because he thought this idea was a good one because Dan woulda _never_ thought of asking Jack made it brilliant.

Of course, he was wrong. Maybe Dan had thought it and had discarded it because it was a bad idea. It was indeed a very bad idea because men like Jamie, were in capable of correctly courting a person.

"Look pal, just tell me who is this mystery person you're attracted to. I _can't_ help you if I don't know. "

"It's Jack." Jamie stated vehemently, almost indignantly like he was trying to deter anyone who even thought of snubbing his taste. Dan's eye widened considerably at this, and was doing a great imitation of a fish.

Jamie thougt his reply had broken the guy but before he could decide if leaving was a better idea, Dan started to breath again. "…Jack?" He said meekly.

He nodded.

"…_our_ Jack?"

Jamie gritted his teeth. "_Yess_," he all but hissed.

"Jack the adorable yet extremely dense farmer who believes in harvest sprites and still sleeps with the lights on? _That_ Jack?"

"Yes, goddamnit, yes! Are you _deaf?!"_

Silence.

More silence.

Suddenly, a light bulb lit up in Dan's head, and a grin that could rival that of the Cheshire cat's blossomed on his face.

"Jamie, my old friend, you've come to the _right_ place."

Jack _better_ be worth it.


End file.
